Of cheap Booze and old Memories
by Evercold
Summary: Her name was Kuina, and she was brilliant. He hated her for being better than him, and he hated himself for loving her. In his distress he sought the easiest way to forget, alcohol. Then she came along, so like her and yet not. ZoroxTashigi


**A/n:** Written during German, just a little dabble on why Zoro drinks. Only problem I had writing this, was that word kept changing Mihawk into Mohawk… Anyway, Enjoy

**Disclaimer – **I do not own one piece. I do not earn neither economical nor sexual gains from writing this.

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The empty tankard crashed unto the floor beside him. His baffled look shot back and forth between his now empty hand and the mug on the deck. When did he let go?

His brows furrowed and slowly he reached down to pick it up. It received a long, glassy stare until Zoro was entirely sure it was empty. Then he let it go and it fell unto the floor, drawing his attention to it once more. Yet again it was given a scrutinizing inspection. When did he drop it?

To the common passer-by this repeating display was very sad. That a young man of his best age, a martial artist of considerable skill, would waste away his life in alcohol's sweet embrace.

What little that average pedestrian knew of _him_.

He didn't drink because he liked loosing control, or because he was addicted in any way. I was a necessity that made him indulge himself in cheap booze. The quality of his drinks didn't phase him the slightest, it could be the worst rum or the best wine – preferably stolen from that Ero-cook. What he needed was the drunk state of mind he would enter after swallowing considerable amounts of given beverage.

He would reach a point were everything went dull.

Where a fuzzy noise was all that filled his mind.

Then the voices were gone.

Her name had been Kuina and she was brilliant. Never had he met a martial artist more unfathomably out of his reach – even when he stood off against Mihawk, rumoured to be the greatest swordsman in the world. Whenever their swords would clash he would be filled with an amazing glee, an enormous joy of life, the exhilaration that would soon be extinguished by _yet another_ agonizing defeat.

He hated her for being better than him. He hated her for being more aloof than him.

He hated himself for being insufficient. He hated himself for loving her.

Of course at that time he wasn't aware of the direct nature of the feelings he harboured. Perhaps had he not dedicated his life to swordsmanship, had he not thrown away his normal life, then he might have recognized the symptoms. She fascinated him more than everything, and he adored her.

Then she died.

Even though he felt the urge to cry, he didn't shed a tear. His haunted mind echoed of her words, her smiles, their duels, their promise.

So he began to train, he spent most of his childhood lifting ridiculously heavy dumbbells excruciatingly many times.

Soon he was the best of his dojo.

Then he came to realized that there were _other_ dojos and other swordsmen, and just as his goal had seemed in reach, it was shot far into the horizon. He kept on going, spurred on by the mixture of memories and voices that filled his waking hours.

The more he fought the more dominant they grew. Wretched guilt twisted his mind and it was only in battle or when toxicated that he was finally free.

He met Mihawk, said to be the best, and once again he was reminded of how far he had yet to come. Zoro came at him with all he had, hoping that he might finally rid himself of the enormous burden.

He lost, and for the first time in perhaps 9 years, he cried bitter tears.

The voices increased tenfold and his broken heart was once more squeezed by agony's bony hand. He had loved her, he still loved her, and now he felt like he had failed her.

Just as he seemed it couldn't grow any worse fate's sense of humour threw that copycat marine into his life. She was a mockery to his very existence. So many things came right back to him, things he'd rather seen forgotten.

Zoro picked up the tankard once more but this time he didn't drop it when he realized it was empty. He went to get more.

Zoro leaned against the wall. Several hours of getting lost in the streets and alleys did miracles to sober up a man. Once again flashes of memories rewoke.

Kuina fighting, Kuina smiling, Kuina sweating, Kuina crying.

Kuina… standing right in front of him.

His eyes widenen in shock, but then he recognized that stupid shirt and those lame glasses.

"You again…" he said.

She held up her sword before her, holding back the fear. In her eyes he saw hatred, terror, disgust, envy, admiration and seeds of love too. He realized that she was nothing like Kuina.

She was like him.

As he looked upon her his smile grew and he drew his sword. The situation was reversed, and he defeated her easily. Yet he felt no contempt of her, instead he felt oddly proud that she had come this far and he wanted her to challenge him again.

He wanted to see her grow.

"This was how Kuina felt…" he whispered and before the marinegirl could react he reached over and kissed her. It was a rough kiss that gradually became tender when she gave up struggling.

For a moment it was Kuina kissing him, then he opened his eyes and he was kissing Tashigi.

All the better.

For once the voices were gone, and as he broke the kiss and ran away, he felt like yelling out his joy.


End file.
